Cinnamon Rolls
by NerdyChicksHaveMoreFun
Summary: For the anonymous Tumblr prompt: "Can someone write a oneshot where Loki overstuffs himself and gets his stomach rubbed to feel better?" Fluff and implied Loki/Khan. Set in the same world as/is an extra to "Of Princes and Gods."


**Cinnamon** **Rolls**

Loki groaned loudly- more dramatically, this time, than the first. If his companion took notice, he didn't show it, continuing to adjust his tie. It was a vibrant blue that brung out that same color in his eyes; Loki had picked it out, and insisted that he wear it. The plain black had been far too bland and uncreative, he'd said. Khan had returned that sentiment by pointing out that they were infiltrating a high-end party, not trying to have stunning fashion sense.

So, of course, here he was, tugging the knot of the blue tie closer to his throat. He hadn't exactly agreed to wear it; he and the Jotun had talked circles around each other until Loki had got aggravated and stalked off. Khan was starting to recognize that Loki hated his ideas being outright dismissed, and when Loki hated things mischief and chaos would follow. If wearing the blue tie would keep him in a good mood and get him to behave himself at the inauguration dinner, it was in Khan's best interest to do so.

Khan didn't call it a compromise; the Emperor of India still did not like the idea that he now compromised with someone. Being a dictator had caused a welcome reprieve from that part of most relationships. No, Khan preferred to call it a logical decision made for the sake of the mission.

Even so, he was alittle annoyed with the outcome, and in retaliation he was pointedly ignoring the God of Mischief. Loki had circled back to their hotel room, thrown a paper plate in the trash and plopped down on the bed, moaning about his stomach; from the smell of cinnamon, Khan guessed that he had devoured the entirety of the desert bar downstairs. Well, more likely he had gone to the kitchen and eaten them- cinnamon rolls, he assumed- before they could be taken out to the dessert bar; yes, Khan could picture that much easier, a confused busboy returning to a cart of cinnamon rolls from some task and finding it empty, an invisible Loki sniggering and strolling by with a plate of rolls in hand and the rest already consumed.

Khan tugged the tie's knot to the right, trying to get it perfectly in line with the hollow of his neck. "Whatever juvenile plight you have gotten yourself into can wait until after we have kidnapped the admiral."

"I am a prince of Asgard and soon to be it's king. I do not get myself into _juvenile plights_." Loki snarled back.

Khan continued to stare into the full-length mirror, watching the asgardians reflection over his shoulder. He was curled on his side on the bed, hands on his stomach, eyes scrunched shut.

"Am I to assume, then, that getting a stomach ache from consuming copious amounts of sweets is a mature man's predicament?"

"Continue to patronize me, Midgardian, and I shall throw you into the fiery pits of Niflheim."

"You'll pardon me if I don't quake at the threats of the man currently incapacitated by sugar."

Khan watched Loki's reflection narrow his eyes, mouth pressed into an annoyed line, before he grimaced and curled into a tighter ball. The Augment sighed internally and turned, crossing to the bed and sitting down next to the god.

"Are you, Loki Silvertongue, Bane of Earth, not going to recover in time for the dinner?"

"Mock me again, _oh Prince of Augments_ ," the titled was sneered sarcastically, "And you shall not like what I do."

"Oh, I tremble, truly." Khan intoned. After several seconds, he sighed, rather dramatically- he was starting to pick up habits from the asgardian. He stretched out, lying one arm across the pillows, against the headboard. "Come here."

Loki's eyes opened fully, his eyebrows flying up. "Why?"

"To help your stomach so we can stop wasting time."

"How?"

In retrospect, Khan should have been grateful; answers in monosyllables was the closest thing to quiet he was going to get with Silvertongue around. At that moment, though, he was just irritated about having to explain himself.

"When I was young, in the custody of the humans still, a few of the scientists with children went through similar situations."

"I am no human child."

"Well, as you seem content to behave like one, the remedy should carry over."

"And what, exactly, is this reme-"

Khan reached over, lightning quick, hooking a finger through a Loki's belt loop and yanking the god towards him. If he had been in a better state, the trickster might have been fast enough to avoid this, but as it was he ended up squirming in the augment's grip, trying to push away.

"Hold still so we can get this over with." Khan commanded in a low growl, face now not far from Loki's. The arm the emperor had been resting on the pillows had come down around the god's shoulders, holding him in place with a vice-like grip.

Loki, of course, was not one to take orders, thrashing and shouting obscenities for several moments. When he still remained in the augment's grip at the end of it, he went stiff, annoyance and indignation painted across his face.

He opened his mouth to growl a threat, when Khan placed a hand on his stomach, applying slight pressure as he rubbed his hand across the god's midriff in slow circles. If the god was stiff before, his spine was wooden now. If either men where anyone other than who they were, their faces would have been beet red.

"What in the nine realms do you think you are doing?" Loki growled lowly.

"Trying to minimize the delay you and your foolish actions have caused." came the reply in a similar tone. The god opened his mouth to protest again, but the pain in his stomach was easing, so he made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and closed his eyes. He'd been yanked into the crook of Khan's arm, and his shoulder made a very good pillow.

After several minutes, Khan wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused by the fact that the god was now sleeping on his shoulder. Silence was a welcome reprieve, though, so he used the time to think over his plans, his hand continuing to make soft circles on the god's stomach in case stopping would wake him up.

When Loki awoke, Khan was once again standing in front of the mirror, having now donned a smooth black jacket of high-end material. It accented his pale complexion and ebony hair, the same way the tie brought out his eyes.

"Get dressed. We're late as it is." Khan said without turning.

Loki stretched and yawned, sitting up fully. His stomach no longer hurt, which was a small relief.

The god stood up to see his outfit for the night layed out on the padded chair in the corner. A snap of the fingers replaced the plain tee and pants he was wearing with a well-tailored black tux, the tie a dark, vibrant forest green with gold lines criss-crossing in diamond shapes. The ensemble's black coat, pants, and shoes were almost identical to Khan's, though Loki also donned a scarf, the same shade as his tie and draped over his shoulders.

The trickster followed Khan out of the room without a word, not speaking until they were in the elevator and descending to the lobby. "I see you're wearing the tie." he said smugly. Khan glared at him darkly.

Though they could have gone around, but it was quicker to cut through the dining room, so the pair weaved their way through couples and families having dinner. Khan emerged out the opposite side and into the lobby, pausing and turning back to look for Loki, who was no longer behind him.

He was just about to retrace his steps and see where the trickster had gotten distracted, when said chaos-maker appeared back by his side, literally out of thin air.

Khan turned and stalked once again towards the door, Loki strolling along beside him, taking a bite from a cinnamon roll. The taller of the two rolled his eyes at the pastry.

"Do you really wish to cause a repeat of earlier?" he asked, annoyed.

"That _is_ the idea." Loki said with a devilish smile.


End file.
